


Te amo is french for I love you

by 0akdown



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Also Tony Stark is an asshole, Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Bucky is a Secret Agent, Deaf Clint Barton, F/M, M/M, Steve is a poor art student, They meet and shit goes down, but secretly cares for everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 03:51:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4945684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0akdown/pseuds/0akdown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While handing out newspapers, Steve meets an attractive stranger. They meet again and again until they decide to go out on a date. The only problem is that  the stranger, Bucky is a secret agent for the infamous government agency SHIELD and there's some complications. So now, for some reason, Steve is involved in an ugly conflict between SHIELD and HYDRA. (Alternative Universe - No powers) (Bucky still has his metal arm tho)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Te amo is french for I love you

**Author's Note:**

> Let's do this

Steve officially hated this. A lot. Just the fact that he had to take on several jobs alongside studying art to sustain himself was harsh enough, but criss-crossing through dark back alleys, behind shady shops, passing suspicious people just to hand out some newspaper nobody had ever heard of was the worst. He hated how ridiculous he looks when he shuffles alongside the buildings while he pulled a trolley behind him with great difficulties, skinny arms shaking after only half of the route he is supposed to deliver to. And probably the worst part was that he had to work on a sunday, because not only does he like to have at least some free time, but also needs to finish his assignments at some point in his week, preferably more than 1 hour before the deadline.

 

Steve gritted his teeth and pulled the collar of his oversized coat over his freezing nose that had already turned red. It was a particuarly cold day of the week, and Steve had so many better things to do than what he did right now. But no, instead of finishing his essay on the analysis of the colours used in Van Goghs ''Sunflowers'', he had to stick some pieces of paper with crap written on it that nobody cared about into the mailboxes of people that didn't even want it. He sighed again and jerked at the handle of his black trolley, filled to the brim with newspapers, to get it rolling in the snow that had already transformed into a thick, hard blanket covering the boardwalk, which made it only harder to move anything with wheels over it. Steve turned into another dark back alley to get to the entrance of a shabby looking building. He slowly went down the steps while clutching the railing like a madman, careful not to slip. The last thing he needed now was an accident. He already spent enough time and money on the various treatments of his health problems.

 

He pulled out a newspaper and slipped it through the slit on the door under great difficulties, since he was wearing thick gloves that he spent almost half of his pay on. He slowly climbed the small set of stairs back up, but just as he wanted to take the handle of his trolley and leave, he heard something click. Turning to see what had made the sound, he was suddenly facing a very confused, very handsome and _very shirtless_ man. ''Uh...'' Steve said smoothly, clutching the railing a bit harder. The man looked around with a puzzled expression and scrunched up his nose in confusion. His brown hair was pulled back into a tiny bun at the upper back of his head, and didn't look like he had shaved in the last three days, but the most prominent feature of the man was that his entire left arm seemed to be made of metal. Steve tried really hard not to stare, which was hard, because it was either the arm, the rippling abs or the ridiculously good looking face.

 

''Okay, uh...'' The man started, voice low and raspy like he just woke up from a really bad hangover, which he probably had, considering his complete lack of recognition of his surroundings, Steve noted. ''Where the fuck am I.'' The man said, looking at Steve through dark blue eyes clouded with puzzlement. ''You're in new York?'' Steve tried, though somewhere in the back of his mind a tiny voice of reason tried to explain to him that he should probably not talk to some weird stranger that was standing in the snow shirtless and bare-feeted in the middle of the winter without seeming affected by it. ''Wait what?'' The man asked, incredulously, furrowing his brows even more. ''America?'' Steve swallowed hard. ''Uh, yeah?'' The man slumped against the door, covering his eyes with his right hand. ''How the fuck...'' He murmured to himself. Steve turned around quickly and grabbed his trolley

 

''Wait! You-Paper boy-guy-person.'' The man shouted, standing upright again. Steve, against all reason, turned around again. ''Do you know-'' It was then that Steve saw the red liquid slowly running down the mans right arm. ''You're bleeding.'' He says automatially, cutting the other man off. ''What?'' The brown haired man asked, and Steve pointed at his arm. The man lifted it up, only to expose an ugly looking cut on his upper arm. ''Aw shit man.'' He cursed quietly, adding something else in another language Steve didn't understand, maybe russian. ''You should put a pressure bandage on that, just saying.'' Steve noted, and raised his eyebrows. If theres something Steve could do very well, then it was being a smartass in front of potentially dangerous people, even if those were very attractive. ''Yeah I guess thanks.'' The man said absently, not even really listening to Steve and turned around, went inside and shut the door. Steve turned around too, puzzle but intrigued. He would probably never see that man again, but he really wondered what his deal was anyways. He shrugged and pulled at his trolley, gladly realizing that he was almost done with his route. Maybe he'd see the stranger again the next time, who knew.

 

 

 

The second time Steve met the mysterious man was a week after. He was just shopping for groceries, trying very hard to stay on the cheap side while also avoiding anything he was allergic against, which, unfortunatley, were a lot of things. Standing in front of the tons of instant soups he checked his wallet again, to make sure he had enough money for food and a few art supplies he had to refill, why did art supplies have to be so damn expensive anyways, when suddenly someone called out to him. ''Hey, woah, you there.'' A person shouted behind his back. Steve turned around, only to stare at the now very clothed chest of the handsome stranger he had met just a week ago. Sharply looking up, Steve met blue eyes that had a playful sparkle in them, and he had to swallow hard. ''Hey I was right, it's you!'' The man said, giving Steve a surprisingly honest looking grin. Steve had to keep himself from thinking how much this man looked like a very big excited puppy, and smiled politely.

 

'''Yup, it's me. Hey look, you've got a shirt on now.'' He said, snarky comment tumbling out of his mouth a little too easily. The man laughed, it was a beatiful sound, a very unhelpful part of Steves brain commented, and scratched the back of his head. ''Yeah, sorry for what happened, I must've freaked you out.'' Steve wanted to say that no, he didn't have a problem with looking at a very good looking shirtless stranger, but just shook his head instead. ''No, it's fine. Just don't drink as much next time, okay?'' The man grinned again. ''I'll be sure to, thanks. I'm Bucky, by the way, could you tell me your name too? It'd be easier than calling you 'cute paper guy' in my head all the time.'' Steve recoiled and blushed slightly. Okay maybe more than slighty, maybe a lot. ''Uh-uhm I'm Steve.'' He coughed and tried to regain control of himself again. Holding out his hand he gave the man, Bucky, an honest smile. ''Nice to meet you Bucky. That's kind of an unusual name, or is it short for something?'' He said, stunned at how well he played off the whole 'this very attractive person thinks I'm cute' thing. Bucky shook his hand with a very firm grip. ''Yeah it's short for my middle name, actually my name is James Buchanan Barnes.'' He said, before stopping just the fraction of a second, like he was surprised at something, before quickly getting over whatever he must have wondered about and smiled.

 

''You know what? We already met twice on accident. I mean, it's kinda a big deal, it's not like New York is some small town.'' Bucky spoke very fast, Steve had to try hard to keep track. ''There's this Russian custom that when you meet each other three times on accident, you have to go drink a coffee together. Or wait was that German? Yeah no, I'm pretty sure it was German.'' Steves head was spinning and he tried to process any of the info Bucky had just said, but the other man already patted his shoulder and laughed again. ''Well, let's hope we'll see each other a third time, won't we? I need to go now, someones waiting for me, see you.'' He rambled and made a fast beeline for the excit. Steve could only dumbly stare at him as he excited the shop, still trying to understand what had just happened. Blinking slowly he put the instant soup he had been holding into his shopping basket and furrowed his brow. This had to be some kind of joke, because he couldn't fathom the fact that someone like Bucky would express any interest for someone like Steve, but nontheless, he felt a slight flutter in his chest at the thought of going out to drink coffee with this man, even though they were practically total strangers.

 

Steve smiled to himself and moved to the cash register. He still had to make it to the art shop before it closed.

**Author's Note:**

> So how many of you noticed that I really hate my newspaper job?


End file.
